Saturday, July 5, 2014

Twenty Eight Years and Counting




Like most little girls (or maybe just most girls), I had an dream of how married life would be and exactly what the “perfect husband” would be.  And, like many dreams, it turned out to be a lot different from reality.

But part of growing up is realizing that even though reality might not have a lot of similarities to dreams, it can still be just as good.  For instance, in my dreams, I wouldn’t have imagined an anniversary celebration consisting of lazing around, having a nice, leisurely lunch just talking to each other, and trying to map out the beginnings of a retirement strategy.  And if I had imagined it, I think I might’ve thought it was more nightmare than dream.  But you know what?  I would’ve been wrong.

After spending close to three decades living with someone day after day—and all of the challenges that come with that—there’s a feeling of contentment and belonging that comes from still enjoying a day just hanging out together, and a feeling of safety that comes from realizing that both of you still think it’s going to last for the rest of your lives.  If that’s not the stuff that dreams are made of, I’m not sure what is.